


Sweet Talk

by wisteriawall



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coming of Age, Difficult Decisions, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Term Relationship(s), Mental Health Issues, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27523228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteriawall/pseuds/wisteriawall
Summary: Every morning there is a bag of candy hearts on Annie Cresta's nightstand, the notes on these hearts contain things her soulmate will say that day. She keeps overhearing Finnick Odair, another student at her university, reciting them word for word.But she's already found her soulmate... Right? [[Modern Soulmates & College AU]]
Relationships: Annie Cresta & Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta & Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta & Mags & Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Johanna Mason & Original Character(s), Mags & Finnick Odair
Comments: 20
Kudos: 26





	1. The Commute

Three pieces of candy in the fine mesh bag on her nightstand. By now, the sugary conversation hearts were just another part of Annie’s life, no different than the good morning text that her boyfriend always sent her, the sunrise, or the horoscope that always came at 5 am sharp. They were mundane if all still playing a fundamental role in her future that she might never fully understand. 

Before any other actions could be taken in the day, she had to read and record them, lest they be misplaced altogether. They were a gift from the universe, appearing next to every man and woman when they woke up starting on their twelfth birthday. Rather young, Annie had always thought, to begin the hunt for a soulmate. She loosened the thin purple ribbon that tied the bag’s opening together and stuck two of her slender fingers in, fished out the candies, and arranged them in her palm to be face up. This was never a surprise anymore, though an overwhelming sense of hope (or was that anxiety?) insisted that the words be immortalized. What if she needed them later on? Eyes scan over the brief insight to the words her soulmate would say throughout the day.

` _cool it, man  
i’m so tired  
i love you_ `

That was her boy, right there. A smile piqued her full lips and she sat the candy on a tissue, wiped the sugary dust off on her thigh, and recorded the phrases in a brown leather journal, faded and worn from years of use. The date is written in neat, tiny script in the margin of the line, and she closed it once more, ensuring it was in the proper place on her desk. Despite the day still being young, she popped the sweets into her mouth and bit down onto the vaguely fruit-flavored hearts. She had hated these at one point in her life and was never quite sure when that had changed. Perhaps it was when they had taken on a prophetic tone rather than just being overhyped sugary chalk that left a weird film on her tongue. It still did, but the sweet start to her day and hopeful promise of a declaration of love outweighed the abysmal texture. Annie brushed her teeth, quickly fixing the problems of both the candy and her sour morning breath, and showered. When she got out and looked in the mirror, meticulously picking over the imperfections in a body that never quite felt perfect, her skin was red from the water’s scalding temperature. Gag. 

The sun had yet to rise, though it would be up in the next half hour. It was time to start the day. Annie tiptoed through her apartment so as not to wake her roommate, Johanna, up. She was always cranky if woken up by Annie’s rummaging around the minimalistic kitchen. The coffee pot, already set on a timer, emitted an aroma throughout the room that caused her mouth to water. Standing at a measly five-feet even, she had to stretch to grab a mug out of the weathered cabinets, pouring in the steaming liquid and bringing it to her lips after adding a dash of cinnamon. Her mother often said that a quiet house was a blessing. It was a time for reflection, and sometimes just a moment of silence before the world had a chance to come crashing down. Annie often thought it to be closer to the latter. While waiting for the coffee to take effect, she sat the mug in the sink and walked out onto the balcony of the small student apartment. The last remaining cool breezes of the morning brushed lazily past her exposed skin, and Annie sighed with relief, invigorated. 

Slow movements allow her muscles to become limber while she stretched into a series of different poses, guiding herself through a yoga routine she’d found online years prior and now stuck to religiously. Practiced flexibility aided in clearing her mind before she had a chance to interact with the outside world, or rather, it attempted to. Much to her avail, her mind was still at a sprint.

Annie would not let the exam that she was woefully underprepared for cross her mind. She would not have the rent due later that week interfere with this workout, either. Not the dirty mug she’d left in the sink. Certainly not. Clear mind. Nothing matters, she repeated to herself internally before—

“Agh-- fuck it.”

She brought her feet back to the ground from her handstand, returned to an upright position, and pushed locks of wet brunette hair out of her face. The mindset was ruined, but at least a good five minutes of meditation were gained, and at least her muscles felt warm and alive. A brisk walk inside, no longer feeling as sluggish as she had before, and she finally washed out the mug, wiped it down, and set it on the drying rack next to the sink. The clock read 6:30, and the sun had only just peeked over the horizon to greet the world by painting the common area in hues of orange, red, and gold. Perhaps her mind needed something that would allow a certain amount of worry to pair with the exercise.

Five furious miles on the treadmill and another brief shower later, she dried her hair, got dressed, and caught a bus headed for Ravinstill University.

* * *

The commute was filled more with office workers and businessmen than college students, but she didn’t mind not seeing anyone that she knew. Music blasted through her earbuds, head bobbing along to a reggaeton beat while she opened her phone to see a message from several minutes prior from her boyfriend.

`incoming text from … Mi Amorcito:  
morning babe `

Even the simplicity of the message could brighten her day. It implied a sleep-induced haze clouding any real attention to grammar. In anyone else, she might find the lazy mistakes annoying, but for now, she was enamored. Once settled, she responded, happy to use her free minutes on him. 

       
`Annie -> buenos dias, baby, sleep well? `   


       
`Mi Amorcito -> yeah, you?`   


       
`Annie -> as well as ever. come study with me before my test?`   


       
`Mi Amorcito-> absolutely. i’ll bring pizza for lunch because i love u  
Mi Amorcito-> where do you wanna meet?`   


       
`Annie -> you really do know me too well, love you too  
Annie -> idk yet though. probably the quad but i’ll let you know if that changes  
Annie -> that sound good to you?  
`   


       
`Mi Amorcito-> yeah i’ll see you later `   


She put her phone back into her bag and rested her head back against the window, bouncing her knee to the beat of the music as she waited for her stop, allowing herself the time to drift off in the vaguely dirty daydreams of her and her soulmate, Colm Lacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, I plan to update this soon. I've never tried to write a soulmates au before so here's to hoping it works out :)


	2. Study Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is a lesbian-- that is all, it had to be said

Annie meant to study for her test. Truly, she did. Instead, she sat on her knees in an uncomfortable wooden chair tucked in the back of the school’s library and focused on tasks that truly didn’t need her focus yet. She couldn’t just skip over the thoughts, or else they would leave her mind forever. Wasn’t writing down a moment of genius more important than passing a test? In her mind, absolutely. Her slender arm laid out across the table, cheek resting on her forearm, ruining her posture one word at a time while her right hand scribbled verses across the page of a robin’s egg blue notebook.

Blue was for poetry, just as brown was for her soulmate’s notes in the morning. Pink suede was for journaling, the black leather was for secrets, the white canvas was for class notes, and mustard linen was all else that wouldn’t fit. The yellow notebook was her least favorite, lacking the organization she craved and insisted on for the rest, but it bounced around in her book bag next to the others all the same. 

No wonder her back ached whenever she made her way home. 

The bag always felt heavy on her shoulders with novels and textbooks and study materials, as was the life of someone meant to graduate at the end of the academic year. Studying English, though more specifically in the realm of creative writing and poetry, Annie was so often weighed down by hardcover anthologies and textbooks spanning hundreds of years in literature’s history. The weight pained her from time to time, but the burden would all be worth it come May, so she did her best to not complain unless it would result in someone offering to carry her things to her next class. At that point, it was acceptable.

Her fingertips tapped out a rhythm while she wrote, sounding out how the syllables interacted in her mind. Perfection was not an option, it was the expectation, so she ensured that even these rough drafts of a poem were worthy of merit. Words stopped flowing as easily when she remembered the anxiety attached to the impending exam, and so she focused harder. _Just this last line,_ she promised herself. _Then we’ll tackle that test._

The act of writing took all of her attention for the time being, though a stack of linguistics flashcards was spread across the table to patiently wait for their turn. Both, then, were forced to wait as she heard her name called paired with the sound of a chair sliding against the carpet beside her. 

The reddish indents of the sleeve were visible on her cheek when Annie lifted her head to see Johanna Mason accompanied by Beatrice Janes, her soulmate, sitting across from her. They had found each other in high school, so she’d been told, and were still attached at the hip. Annie loved Colm, but she sometimes wished they could mesh in the same way that Jo and Bea fit together like puzzle pieces. They were almost always in sync even though the pair were total opposites at a first glance. Johanna with her pale peachy skin, overgrown pixie cut, and tall, androgynous figure balanced perfectly with Bea’s shorter frame, romantic in form with round features, a deep amber complexion, and braids with beads that clicked as she walked. 

She so deeply envied their loveliness. 

“Annie!” Bea greeted, making her head shoot up. Annie nearly fell out of her chair. “ ‘S the seat taken?”

“Of course not, they’re all yours,” she assured, still flustered as she shut the journal. 

Johanna knew better than to ask. The privacy of her work was on a need-to-know basis, usually. “We saw Colm today,” she began, “He said he was bringing you lunch, so we’re joining in. Thought you’d be in here”

“Oh, he is,” Annie remembered. “Pizza. It’s supposed to help me study, I think.”

“Is he actually helping you study? Ann, you know he’s just going to distract you, and we both know you need to ace this,” Johanna said.

Bea smacked her girlfriend’s shoulder gently in response. “Be nice.”

Annie shrugged, but couldn’t help cracking a smile. 

Johanna and Annie both studied under the same major, and so they shared a general understanding of how exactly to piss off their professors, as well as a whole catalog of side-eyes to send one another when the discipline was referred to as the easiest subject. Usually, that line came from people who, in their next breath, would pay Annie to proofread their papers. Usually, too, those edits would end up much closer to the realm of full rewrites. Anything for a few dollars. 

For the next half hour or so, Johanna did the job that Annie so poorly regulated for herself, and Bea cheered them on while tapping away on a laptop. Flashcards were flipped through ten times over until they were entirely memorized both in areas of theory and practice, and Annie was reminded of how much it helped to be friends and live with someone with the same major, even if their interests varied wildly.

When the library felt too stuffy and the trio ached for the sun on their skin, they moved outside. 

Annie splayed out across the grass of Ravinstill University’s quad, thankful for the morning’s decision of shorts instead of a dress. With her eyes closed and arms open wide, she continued to chat with her roommate and her girlfriend as they waited for midday. Because Johanna had been so much of a help, Annie allowed herself a few minutes of relaxation in an attempt to relax. She did, however, know better than to expect her mind to actually quiet down. 

Given her vulnerable state and Johanna’s enjoyment of teasing and practical jokes, it wasn’t hard for Colm to sneak up on her. Before she even knew he was there, hands attack her sides and she seized up with laughter as he tickled her. 

“Oh my God, stop it!” Annie began through her giggles, batting at his hands as she fought to sit up. 

In retaliation to the tickling, and in an effort to throw him off just enough to stop, she kissed him. Brief, treasured, careful not to go overboard. Annie was always careful. Seemingly content, he caught her hands, allowing her to catch her breath. 

“I love you,” Colm greeted more officially. 

_Check._

“I love you, too,” she grinned wide, pecking his lips once more before getting up in one graceful movement.

God, Annie loved Colm. She was quite sure of that, even if they had only been together for coming on six months. With their system, it seemed easy to skip those early awkward stages. There was no need to put up walls with someone confirmed by the universe to be their soulmate, and so relationships oftentimes moved quickly. 

He was pretty, with golden skin and deep brown angular eyes paired with a body chiseled from marble, strong enough to lift her with ease at the drop of a hat. She was enamored, to say the least, and spent a not-insignificant amount of time waxing poetic in her journals about every aspect of his being. From her relationship with his family to topics best kept behind closed doors, her journals had seen it all. Perhaps it didn’t hurt that Annie and Colm both were “too white” to fit in wholly with their home cultures and simultaneously too Mexican or Korean to feel at home in California. As it so often went, being othered was a unifying factor for the pair. 

Johanna and Bea, still there, ignored the theatrics of the couple in order to focus more closely on the pizza box on the table and its contents. Annie, too, grabbed a slice once she’d sat down at the table. She had a good run this morning, and would again tonight. This was fine. 

It was delicious enough that she almost didn't care. Almost.

Once Bea had announced that she had to leave for class, and once Johanna left to walk with her, she was left alone for the quasi-date with her soulmate. They made plans to spend time together that weekend. It would be hard to say no to her when she was already tucked up into his side on the stone bench, free hand drawing absentminded patterns on his thigh.

“I thought you were going to visit your parents this weekend?” He asked. 

She was, but she now wished that she wasn’t. In all honesty, she enjoyed the idea of getting laid a bit more than going to her parent’s house.

“I was going to,” Annie admitted, “But I’ll just put it off, they’ll understand. Maybe we can go to the beach?” A slight diversion of topics, she didn’t feel like getting lectured on why she should keep commitments to her parents. 

“Yeah, let’s do that. It’ll be pretty warm, I think, especially if we time it right.”

“If it’s that warm, I’ll just go shopping. Find something new for you to see,” She winked up at him as she spoke. 

“Ooh, my baby’s putting on a show for me,” he said with his own slightly exaggerated show of enthusiasm, and it made her laugh before taking another bite of pizza. 

For all her insecurities, Annie was still fairly happy with her appearance as a whole. Naturally fawn skin and dark brown hair made her meadow green eyes stand out in the sunlight. Her rigorous workout routine, too, was to thank for a petite figure with soft definition apparent as a show of athleticism. Of course, the compliments never hurt her self perception where others were involved. Colm seemed to feed into that, which she didn’t mind. It was quite fun to be held in such high regard. It was even worth the extra money that she would drop on a swimsuit later that week in order to see Colm’s eyes bug out of his head. 

They sat there and caught up on the past couple of days, occasionally falling into comfortable silences for him to scroll through his phone and for Annie to scribble something down in a notebook or flip through her flashcards once more. Things were good and calm, and she could let her mind wander while her back sunk into his side and the sun warmed her skin. 

A sound brought her a sudden rush of excitement as her head turned to follow the voice that spoke a line she had thought of intermittently all day. It was a man’s voice, warm but firm. Someone she knew of but had never formally met despite running in similar social circles. Finnick Odair-- all jovial and energetic as he and his friends played a lax game of tackle football in the center of the quad.

      
**  
_“Cool it, man!”_  
**  



	3. Guilty Pleasures

       
**_“Cool it, man!”_**   

**  
**

The sound reverberated through her chest, though it wasn’t too loud, or even particularly near the couple, but Annie’s heart skipped a beat. She could’ve cried, were she not in public. It was three words. Nothing compared to the litany of lined up notes with Colm, but the confusion still threw a wrench into the perfectly formed plans of her life. Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Her chest rose and fell manually as Annie put a laughable amount of effort into ensuring that her breathing was steady enough to not cause alarm. Thankfully, Colm didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, then he didn’t say anything. The excitement from just a moment earlier melted into intense anxiety. This wasn’t even a wrench in the gears. No, this was a hammer smashing all of her handiwork to bits that would never fit back together, not with this little thread of doubt. 

As Annie attempted to come back to Earth, she got a good look at Finnick Odair and how he tumbled in the grass. Though she couldn’t see each feature from so far away, his bronze hair was something she often noticed from across courtyards just by virtue of its shine. Sunkissed skin added to the all-American boy charm, and she knew from an impressively sized Instagram page that he had sea green eyes. They knew each other only in passing, and she now was positive that it wouldn’t stay that way. It couldn’t. She had to know. She made a mental note to stalk through his social media on the ride home, Annie knew he was popular enough to be easy to find. She had to hear his voice again, and not just in the muffled grunts, complaints, and cheers of an impromptu football game. 

Where would he be tonight?

That line of thinking disturbed her momentarily. How could Annie be thinking such things when it was her soulmate that held her close? The same man who, for as long as she’d known him, had regularly ended up with words from the candy hearts on his lips. She assumed that he, too, must have seen the same phenomenon reversed on her. Why would he stay so long if she hadn’t also regularly said phrases from the literal playbook of destiny? Sure, they were vague, but it was too often. Never just a hello or goodbye, but comments with weight. She had yet to see her name pop up, but she had heard the university, complaints about traffic, and the laments over mommy issues. Even if they weren’t entirely unique, was it not too strong a coincidence for this to all be wrong?

“You okay, Annie?” 

The sound drew her back to reality. Back to Colm. She must have been staring, or maybe just lost in space. After several blinks and a quick shift to sit up straight, she answered, “Yeah, I just was thinking about something I ought to talk to my prof about before the exam. Call you later?” 

It was a weak excuse, but he didn’t seem too bothered to let her go, and he nodded while she began to pack up her things.

“Okay, later. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said, kissed his cheek, and then left. 

* * *

On her commute home, Finnick Odair crossed her mind once more. She had to look him up. Pulling out her phone, she searched his name, happy to see that a number of mutual follows pushed him to the top of the results. She joined the masses. 

It wasn’t creepy, they went to school together. She could look him up. Right?

He was clearly a little self-absorbed, a number of the recent photos lacking any significant amount of clothes. Though, she could admit that he was certainly deserving of the confidence that allowed him to air out his life as he did. Several of the landmarks and backgrounds were familiar, which shouldn’t have been a shock, but she had a hard time realizing that other people would and did perceive her home in the same way that she did. 

There were pictures of the beach, of local coffee shops, breakfast tables, frat houses, and of the friends that gathered around him at each instance. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been aware of his minor celebrity status before that day, but suffice to say that Finnick Odair didn’t cross Annie’s mind regularly enough to stick in any permanent schema. She recognized, to her own dismay, that he had appeared to her more times on that bus than he had in the past three years that they had shared a university. 

It wasn’t late when she returned home, but she was eager to hole herself away. No more than a quick greeting to Johanna and Bea, who were cuddled up on the worn-down sofa in front of the TV. She grabbed a container of a leftover salad and slipped off to her room. Her notebooks dump out on her bed and she scrambled for the one bound in soft black leather. Secrets. 

`_Colm may not be my soulmate. That’s crazy, right? I’m having a hard time believing it might be the case. I must be crazy. I’m crazy. Who am I to just shove off destiny when it’s staring me dead in the face and screaming at the top of its lungs?_ `

` _It’s awful, but I have to find out._ `

` _Finnick Odair, I’m onto you._ `

She closed the book and went to stand beside her desk. Fingers trace over her morning’s work of penning down the sealed fate of the candy hearts. If she thought hard enough she could remember how she’d smiled as the sweetness hit her tongue. Now, she only felt bitterness as her mind turned inward, jaw taut in annoyance.

Annie stripped and dressed for bed, brushing out brunette waves and washing her face. Her head hurt from the day’s contents, and so she decided to forgo the previously promised run. After eating her dinner and brushing her teeth, she returned the container to the kitchen and washed it. That couldn’t stay in her room overnight, she’d rather die. Would die, in fact.

Finally, after much ado about nothing, she crawled into bed and felt her guilt wash away, if only for a short while, when she closed her eyes. 

It was wrong, she knew that much when it was the image of bronzed curls and dimples floating through her mind as her hand slipped into the waistband of her underwear. It was the rogue phrase of “cool it, man” that echoed as her breathing hitched and caught, and it was the thought of Finnick Odair’s fingers in place of her own that coaxed her over the edge and left her a shaking mess with a cramped up hand and a notification that read in no uncertain terms:

       
`missed call from ... Mi Amorcito`   


The high didn’t last long enough. Before Annie could roll over and fall asleep, she stripped her sheets, threw them in the wash, and replaced them with new ones. Her mind might have traveled to a place that she found repugnant (if still deliciously tempting), but her body would not be reduced to sleeping in the aftermath of her own straying mind. Tomorrow was a new day, and she came to the conclusion that she would nip this in the bud before the weekend, even if it killed her.


	4. Heather Chandler

That Friday, after a generally uneventful week of increasingly intrusive thoughts about the bronzed boy haunting her dreams, Annie made the decision to seek Finnick out. They had friends in common, she knew that much. 

Johanna, for one, knew and was close to both, albeit in very different ways. Annie was the friend that she lived with, who would host twelve-hour study sessions and drink cheap wine with bad romantic comedies. Finnick was who she would go on dangerous adventures with, and who could offer her a sip of vodka from his water bottle at two in the afternoon. They were very different friends.

Athena Halaway, too, was a mutual friend, though not nearly as close. She and Annie had a class or two together in their first year and sometimes would go for runs in the early morning before either could find another partner. Though she didn’t know much about the relationship between her and Finnick, she was fairly sure that he’d been mentioned once or twice, and maybe she had seen him on her social media. She shouldn’t be who Annie asked about him, because that would immediately be suspicious. 

Right. Johanna wasn’t the one that should catch Annie in some big lie. She was the one that had figured out about Colm even before Annie knew, so she seemed to have a knack for these things. However much she claimed to be self-contained, the pixie-haired woman had a track record of seeing right through Annie Cresta despite putting up her best fight to avoid it, starting on a fateful night just over a year prior.

* * *

__

_It was Annie’s twenty-second birthday, or rather, several weeks after her birthday. The first time that a party could be arranged, as the July date didn’t allow their university friends the flexibility to come to an event. The night was hazy as her mind swam in a sea of coconut rum and Blue Curacao. Johanna teased her relentlessly for the drink, but Annie admittedly was just attached to the way the blue color reflected on the inside of her solo cup and interacted with the black lights attached to the ceiling of their apartment. A splash of tonic water to make it glow. It made her feel like Heather Chandler, always stumbling towards the end of her life and grasping for a bit of dignity. The scrunchie pulling back her hair didn’t help, even if it wasn’t the cherry red of the eighties._

_Colorful face paint on everyone’s cheeks and lips and foreheads (necks, too, if you looked closely enough at the guests in pairs) made the room feel like it was filled with fireflies. These fireflies, though, didn’t linger with the summer air and wild strawberries. They went wild to the hard beats of the bass coming from a speaker set up at a wall, bouncing around and colliding like ships on a stormy sea. This wasn’t Annie’s scene, though it was her party, and she stood in an otherwise unoccupied corner of the room to look on at the forty or so other sweaty bodies. It wasn’t a lonely existence, but a contemplative one, enjoying the view of her friends letting loose._

_“Hey, birthday girl,” A sugar-sweet voice crooned at her, slurred together into a sound only recognizable by someone as intoxicated as Colm Lacy was, just a foot away with a messy string of dots glowing a fluorescent blue against his deliciously tan skin._

_It pulled her out of her world, head turned to him. She must have looked a mess, smeared eyeliner and with most of her lipstick on the rim of her cup, but he had never looked so enamored. She didn’t know him well but could put together a face and name._

_“Hey, Lacy,” she responded, shoulders pressed back against the wall. Was she smiling? She meant to._

_“Cresta,” he began. A long pause to regain his train of thought. “You,” he motioned up and down her form, “You look stunning._

_“Your buddy Johanna over there told me she’d give me fifty bucks if I got you to dance. Want to make an easy twenty?”_

_It was enough to pull a laugh out of the birthday girl. Then again, she was drunk enough to laugh at anything._

_“Are you sure you’re not just trying to get me on my back?”_

_“I’m sure, I can’t take you away from your own party. B’sides, I’d rather get you on top of me.”_

_She paused but then nodded, color rushing to her cheeks. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that remained present._

_“Twenty-five and you’ve got a deal. Only for the dance.”_

_“Deal.”_

* * *

Annie was never sure how Johanna had figured that one out over half a year before they’d officially gotten together. Upon asking, she would swear she just had a feeling. Nothing more. The assurance had always come with a wink.

It was another party that Annie would attend this time, Johanna Mason at her side. They’d agreed to go together to the Psi Eta fraternity house, sans partners, and get as fucked up as possible without needing medical attention. Jo was not aware that Annie expected Finnick Odair to be in attendance, but that wasn’t something she needed to know immediately. For the moment, they were just content to have someone to walk home with that wasn’t going to end up in bed with them. 

They got ready together in Annie’s bathroom, singing into hairbrushes and sharing eyeshadow palettes while downing a couple of glasses of wine to loosen themselves up. As Annie barely squeezed into an outfit that she was sure had fit the week before, she watched Johanna gracefully slip into a cherry red tube top and the skinniest jeans she’d ever seen. Annie was always amazed at how Johanna’s lanky frame made every outfit look couture. It was a talent Annie wished she could have, but she was far too aware of how the unyielding fabric of her faux leather skirt hugged her hips. 

If Jo had the same issue with her pants, she was much better at pretending that she didn’t. 

When they made it to the Psi Eta house, they agreed to split up, meet at the lamppost outside at two, and text each other if any plans changed. It was a plan that had never failed them before, allowing each some freedom while still assuring their safety. Thankfully, both Annie and Johanna were friendly enough to know many of the faces in the dark, strobe-lit house. 

As soon as they separated, Annie went on her mission. Though her mind was clouded just slightly from the wine, she was coherent enough to search for the voice that bounced around in her mind. What had been on those sugary demons that morning? She checked her phone just to make sure.

      
`Come on ✔️  
What’s in that? ✔️  
Piece of cake ✔️  
`  


She had heard all three in-person from Colm, if that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. Still, she was here to investigate, keeping both ears open to search for any inkling of the prized guest at any local party.

The dingy basement of the house made her skin crawl with the knowledge that she would almost surely be unable to convince herself to shower upon returning home after she downed a few more drinks. In her cheap strappy heels, grains of dirt and sand fought to make a home in any minuscule space between her foot and the sole of the shoe. The sensation disgusted her, but not as much as the alternative of walking barefoot through this muck. Vodka breath and sweat scented the air, occasionally cut by the overpowering colognes of the house’s brothers who were positive that a fifty-dollar bottle held the secret to luring six girls at once to their twin XL beds. Sometimes, too, it would mix with a syrupy sweet edge to the basement could only be noted as cupcakes or cotton candy. Whether it was the wine-cooler-dominant vomit of girls already hitting their limits or the perfumes of the girls themselves, she didn’t know, nor did she care to find out. Were Annie four shots drunker and not on a mission, she might have joined those ranks, but not tonight. 

Another drink in, and she heard him. Or rather, she felt his body first hit her hand, and then she felt her cup hit her body, splashing the cheap spirits on her top. She gasped as the cool liquid hit her skin. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to worry too much about it the sticky residue that was sure to form on her chest. 

“Shit— fuck, sorry,” His tone was often honeyed and full-bodied when he knew what he meant to say. Practiced. It was something she noticed in her meticulous scrolling through countless videos of overdone smirks and forced flirtations to an empty camera. This, though, was something natural if still entirely recognizable. She liked the sound of him up close. “I didn’t see you, are you okay?”

There was a noticeable height difference of at least a foot, enough so that she genuinely believed that he hadn’t noticed her. She was more shocked that she didn’t see him. 

Annie forced her jaw up off the ground as she gave him a once over. With his effortlessly tousled hair and half unbuttoned shirt revealing a well-defined chest highlighted by a slight gleam of sweat, she thought he looked surprisingly like a god. Her heart skipped a beat before she could formulate an answer.

“I— I’m totally fine, really. Finnick, right?” 

“That’s me,” he said and stepped back to look down at her. A childish sense of excitement crossed his face as he seemed to put a name to the vaguely familiar face. “Cresta... Abby? Ana?”

“Annie,” she corrected but smiled. 

“Ah, Annie! You’re Jo Mason’s roommate, right? I think I went to your birthday last year.”

“You might have, yeah, that’s me,” she confirmed. Had he gone? Annie liked to think she would’ve remembered, but she didn’t. 

“That’s awesome. Jo’s here too, you guys probably came together, right?”

She nodded.

“I’ll get you another drink. What’s in that?” He motioned to the cup. 

Annie felt a rush of electricity up her spine. She wanted to melt into a puddle, but she also didn’t want to look as affected as she was. Maybe it would be masked by the dark lighting and overall air of intoxication. 

“It was vodka and soda. Know if they’ve got anything better?”

“Come on, I’ll see what we can do,” he winked, and Annie felt her heart sink to her stomach.


	5. Fizzy Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pt 2 of: jane is nostalgic for fraternity basements despite them being disgusting and disease-ridden. also, I made a playlist for sweet talk! let me know if you give it a listen <3 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2oNaDRd9MqUTCPDcIid8UC

They moved together to the makeshift kitchen, Annie always one step behind as she struggled to keep tabs on Finnick in the busy room. In true fraternity basement fashion, the kitchenette was composed of a folding table, a faded blue cooler, and a stack of red plastic cups. Several different bottles didn’t seem to have made it back into the cooler after previous guests, strewn across the table in various states of fullness. 

When Annie reached out for a bottle to remake a drink, he made a motion of dissent towards her hand and offered a cheeky grin, all superstar smiles and deep dimples. She wasn’t sure if it was glitter, sweat, or just his general aura that made him sparkle like a gemstone. Whatever it was, she was compelled to remove her hand from its search. 

“Let me make you something fun?” Finnick requested in a tone so sweet that she could have melted. 

She nodded, deciding that words were likely not the most effective form of communication with music blasting all around them. 

“What sort of things do you like?” He asked her. 

She thought about that for a moment. “I like fizzy things. And things that taste, y’know, clean.”

If Annie were of a clear mind, she may have been able to come up with a better description to guide his creativity. Something with mint or lemon. Salt. A drink with some degree of transparency and something that wouldn’t taste particularly egregious when it came back up. 

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have to explain all of that, as he’d already started mixing. There was a degree of care in his movements that she found fascinating. His lips mouthed out the counts as he poured liquors into a new cup, clearly putting a substantial amount of effort into this girl that he hardly knew. She should have been worried, wasn’t it rule number one to not let anyone else touch personal drinks? Oh well. He ought to have known that Johanna would kill him if anything unsavory were to occur, and he ought to have known that he was both famous enough to be held responsible for bad actions and not famous enough to have it be water off a duck’s back. He would behave. She blinked and brought herself back to reality, where Finnick was holding a cup in her direction. His lips were moving, but she had missed what he said. 

“Thank you!” Annie said, took the cup, and sipped from it. She hummed in delight as her tongue buzzed from the carbonation, and he grinned like a child being given a gold star. 

“Like it?” He asked, 

“I love it. Is it anything special?”

“I don’t think it’s got an official name. It’s just something I like, I used to make it all of the time when I was a bartender.”

“Was?” Annie asked curiously, “You don’t look old enough to be an ex-anything,” she teased. It was probably a bold statement coming from her, someone who often had to show several IDs to be served at any reputable bar. 

“Hey! I’m twenty-three, thank you very much. That’s plenty of time to job hop. You, however, look like you shouldn’t even be here. I’m just assuming you’re old enough to sign a lease,” he grinned. 

She conceded, nodding, “Fine, fine. Twenty-three, too. Just barely, though. But I guess you knew that.”

He nodded, proud of himself. 

Annie hadn’t meant to talk to him as long, or as intimately as she did. They ended up on opposite sides of a mysteriously stained tweed loveseat— she did her best to not imagine how those stains appeared— and yelled over the hard bass beats to give away their life stories, or at least the simplest overviews. 

She soaked it up like a sponge. 

He was majoring in marketing and was good at it. He was a perfectionist. He liked to surf. He had his first kiss at fourteen. He lived with his grandmother, who he loved more than anyone else in the world, and who loved him just as much. His cell phone’s lock screen was a class schedule. He ran a “little” Instagram account. He was always busy. 

Annie only knew some of the facts he rattled off but pretended to be unaware of it all so as to not admit her previous stalking. That was easy enough, though, as she was reminded that she knew nothing concrete about him at all. The expressions of delight, amusement, and genuine laughter were nothing like she had seen in his manufactured image of himself, so he must have also embellished on the finer points of his life presented on phone screens. The world happened around them and their scratchy couch cushions served as the only link to the terrestrial world that they shared with the rest of the population. 

By the time Annie realized the time, she was red-faced with laughter and could see that he was, too. Two AM had never come so soon, and she was immediately regretful when she informed him that she’d promised to meet Johanna to go home. They had to speak again, she had told him. He was too fun to let go. 

_What would Colm say if he saw this?_

She wiped the imagined disappointment from her mind. Finnick and all his beauty were there for friendship. Nothing more. 

She and Finnick agreed to text in the morning when their minds had let loose the restraints of what was bound to be a painful hangover. He’d suggested lunch sometime, _did she come to campus often?_ Annie told him that she was almost always nearby and that she would happily meet him for a meal, as long as he wouldn’t be offended if she studied while they hung out. If she was studying, then there was nothing wrong with getting a meal with a friend, no matter how beautiful his jawline’s edge was. 

They agree to meet, and Annie waved at him as she stumbled away through the intoxicated crowd. 

When she found Johanna, it was clear that her friend had gotten quite a bit more intoxicated than her. Usually, they found themselves neck and neck, proving as equal supports to the other while they walked home. This time, however, Annie let Johanna wrap an arm around her shoulders and lean into her, the two of them stumbling all the way home, giggling and joking like children. 

She tried to pay attention to the conversation, but couldn’t. Johanna didn’t seem to mind, off in her own world. The high of the night still surged through Annie’s veins, only heightened by the clear air of the night. 

When she looked up, Annie thought that she could see every star in the sky. The layer of smog covering the city would beg to differ. Thirty minutes any direction in a fast car and she’d see galaxies away. To a brain thinned by alcohol and giddiness, it felt as though the stars were all within reach. The arm that didn’t loop around Jo’s waist stretched up towards the sky, a glazed over expression in her ocean eyes. The laughter made the act not feel so odd, though she knew quite well that she was not drunk enough to go searching for some green light across the bay. 

“What are you doing?” A laugh from her friend, flavored with the hint of snark that proved so common in her tone.

Cinnamon. Johanna smelled like cinnamon, and she sounded like it too. 

“Hmph,” it occurred to Annie just exactly how she looked. Reaching for a star so far away that it may well have been long dead. “I dunno.”


End file.
